Maybe

Almost

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Am i Lost

 

Sometimes

All I Need

I Remember

Mrs. Biswas

The One That Got Away (English)

I was at a school for a workshop, when I heard it for the first time in ages. It was barely audible above the shouting of children -- the laughter and sound bubbling from the school playground into the classroom windows. But it was there: the swish of silk saris and the jingle jangle of bangles on thin wrists like wind chimes.

This is what learning sounds like. I remember. I remember my school.

I remember when I was 10 years old, the principal of my School was Mrs. Biswas. She was the size of a nightlight, and she glided like a sailboat through the hallways of our school.

Once, when I got close enough to grab a fistful of her draping
silk sari, I tried to see whether she had any feet at all.
I thought she floated. She was magical

I was scared to be sent to her office: (all the false stories we have imagined about her cabin) we used to think she is a lion roaring in  her cabin which was all surrounded by the hanging plants like a jungle
But